


#2 Ma Carver

by gpadow



Category: Gunsmoke, Matt/Kitty
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gpadow/pseuds/gpadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>follow-up to Perfect Fit; Matt's wound is explained</p>
            </blockquote>





	#2 Ma Carver

**Author's Note:**

> This story respectfully features the characters and canon of the television program, Gunsmoke, which aired in 1955. They do not belong to me.

#2 Ma Carver

Jun. 26th, 2009 at 11:51 AM

 

The story takes place one month prior to start of "Perfect Fit". The setting is a cabin sitting precariously close to a river bank looking as if it will slide down the short, rocky slope. A rocking chair is on the porch and smoke is coming from the chimney. Doc's horse and carriage are off to the side on safer ground near a large chicken coop.

 

"Amelia, you amaze me." Doc placed his stethoscope into his medical bag, closed it securely, and then rubbed his hand over his mustache and shook his head.

"You say the same thing every time, Doc. Truth be told, I'm surprised every morning when I wake up to another day. Guess I'll just turn to dust one day."

The tiny woman shuffled over to the stove and placed a dented coffee pot on to boil. Doc studied her and took a seat on one of only two chairs in the small cabin.

"Don't know why you keep comin' all this way, Doc. An' Kitty sending all these nice things again - she ought ta find someone else ta give em to."

"Well, Kitty thought you might need a new blanket and some matches and.."

"I ain't a charity case! But I sure do appreciate the tobacco 'cause my old cobb is 'bout empty."  
She grinned to let the doctor know she was happy with her gifts.

"Doc, I can't figure why you and Kitty bother with me. You know Frank and them two boys would kill the Marshal in a minute - or over a real long time just so they could watch him suffer."

Amelia Carver turned away and sadly said, "When Frank was between hay and grass, we knew he was bad. Evil called before he was growed an we knew we'd lost him to it. I just didn't figure he'd turn his boys that way, too. Makes me purely ashamed."

Doc reached over and placed his hand on her thin arm. He knew Ma Carver didn't make her son so mean. She raised a fine son in Daniel. It was a tragedy the whole town felt when he died from those rattlers. Matt always thought Frank had something to do with his twin brother being caught in that cave, and Doc shuttered to think how evil can triumph sometimes.  
Thankfully, Frank will be spending the rest of his days in prison.  
Amelia Carver took her arm away and moved to the stove. She pulled open the small drawer of the old coffee grinder and emptied the contents into the pot. The frail woman struggled to get the top off the Arbuckle tin holding the remains of the coffee beans Kitty had sent last time.  
Doc knew better than to offer assistance. He picked up the poker she had used to stir the fire in the stove and looked at the brand on the end. It was a small "C" that had the head and tail of a rattlesnake.

"By thunder, I see your pump is working!" Doc got up to study the old pump over the sink and began pumping water into a large pot. "Did Clint and Nate finally fix it for you?"

"Them two? Naw, 'was Marshal Dillon took care of it when he come by here tracking them boys."

"When did Matt come through here? I didn't know your grandsons were in trouble again."

"Why they done busted Frank out of prison, Doc!"

###

Later that evening. Doc walked slowly through the doors of the Long Branch and over to where Kitty was reading between sips of whiskey. The redhead reached for the bottle and instinctively looked up as he approached her table.

"Well hello, Curly. You look like you've had a long day. What can I get you?"

"A cold beer sounds great, Kitty. I see you are still reading up on Paris and studying French."

He picked up the note paper that she had been scribbling on and using as a bookmark while Kitty rose to get his beer.  
Kitty placed a beer in front of Doc. He noticed she also brought another whiskey glass to the table.

"You sound just like Matt. He doesn't believe I'm leaving either. I've been making plans. This is going to happen, Doc."

Doc rubbed his hand over his mustache and said "I know it is, and I'm happy for you, Kitty. I know you have your heart set on this trip. By thunder, I wish you could get that big lawman to go along with you!"

Kitty studied her old friend. "What's wrong?"

"When Matt left a few days ago, did he say why or where he was headed?"

"You know how he is, Doc. All I know is Matt got a telegram about a prison break and said he'd try to get word to me if he was going to be gone long. Same as always. What do you know, Curly?"

"Frank Carver is out, Kitty, and Matt is after him."

###

Clint and Nate Carver were twins and, while their grandmother still referred to them as boys, they were 41 years old.  
Their father Frank still treated them like boys as well. Not with affection, however. They never heard a kind word from him. But he held a power over them, and they carried out his orders without question.

"I can't believe we've been riding around in circles all over just to throw Dillon off our trail, Nate. Its three against one - we should just bushwack him."

Nate Carver spit out his chew then said flatly, "Pa says we do it this way."

For most of his 62 years Frank Carver has been mean and angry. He hated his young frightened wife for dying in childbirth. He grew to hate Daniel for always being the good son, always showing him up. He hated his father for being weak and crawling into a bottle after Daniel died. The stupid old man got himself shot while riding with a pose for Matt Dillon. The Marshal. He hated him most of all.

Frank rubbed his forearm where the prison brand scarred his flesh and swore to get even with the high and mighty lawman. After meeting up with his worthless sons at the campsite, they will double back and wait at the cabin. I wonder if the old woman is still hanging on, he thought. If Dillon didn't find them there, then they would sneak into Dodge and go after his woman.  
Kitty Russell thinks she is so fine. Who does she think she is throwing him out of her saloon for mistreating one of her girls? When she sees what he's got planned for her man, she'll be sorry.

###

Kitty walked into the telegraph office and stood behind a man and woman paying for their telegram.

"No word from the Marshal, Miss Kitty, but I'll be sure to let you know right away if something comes in from him."

"Thanks, Barney, I appreciate that."

The man touched the rim of his hat, but his wife turned away.  
Some things never change, Kitty thought.  
Barney caught the exchange and thought what does a fine lady like Kitty Russell have to do to get respect from some of these 'respectable' ladies of Dodge City?  
As Kitty started down the boardwalk toward the dress shop, Burke called after her. "Got some packages for you, Miss Kitty. I'll have them sent up - oh, and here's the mail."

She grabbed the mail, and as she began going through it, he could see her disappointment.

"The Marshal is probably way out there on the prairie someplace."  
Realizing that wasn't exactly comforting, Burke added "I bet he comes ridin' in tonight."

Kitty acknowledged him with a slight smile and continued to her fitting. I shouldn't be worried, she thought. Matt rarely has a chance to send word unless he's at a trial that has gone longer than expected.

He has probably spent the past two weeks on some dirty trail tracking Frank Carver. She just wished he had taken Festus along.

###

Matt allowed Buck to graze and water while he examined the campsite. They didn't bother to cover their tracks. Could be a trap. Now all three were together. Maybe I should have brought Festus along, he thought. They seemed to have wandered pretty far to evade a posse and then met here at what was likely a predetermined place and time. Frank must be calling the shots, and now they are headed back toward Dodge.  
Matt thought of Amelia Carver. Her little cabin would only be a few miles out of the way, and they may want to hide out there for the night. He mounted Buck and headed off in the direction of the fresh tracks.  
Kitty would be putting the light on again for him tonight, he thought.

###

"Pa, why are we ridin' through the stream if you say you want the Marshal to find us?" asked Clint.

"He done told ya" Nate said. "We each come out of the river at different places and head to gran's without being spotted by Dillon."

"Remember to keep your horses hid!" barked Frank Carver. "We're gonna surprise Dillon and send him back to Dodge tied over his horse with my brand all over him."

Frank rubbed his prison scarred forearm and said, "I'm comin' out here. You boys ride further down a ways and don't come out at the same place. Remember to leave a clean trail at first then cover your tracks when you get near the cabin. It should be dark by then anyway."

###

The sun was fading through the trees as Matt rode up and noticed the tiny woman carrying a basket, slowly stepping onto the porch. She turned, squinted and immediately recognized the large figure as he climbed down, tied Buck at the hitching rail, and walked toward her, tipping his hat like a gentleman.

"Well, we have to stop meeting like this or Kitty is gonna get jealous" she laughed.

"Hello again, Ma. Here, let me help you with that."

Matt noticed the basket contained eggs and didn't try to take it from her once she pulled it away and firmly said, "I can manage."  
"Come on inside and rest up." It was more a command than an invitation.  
Matt followed her into the cabin and hung his hat on a hook by the door, then took a seat at the small wooden table.

"You ever catch up to Frank and his boys, Marshal?"

"No, but I think they split up, and at least one of them will be heading this way before going into Dodge. Have you seen any sign of them?"

"Not today. Why on earth would they want to go to Dodge City with everyone lookin' for 'em?"

"I think Frank feels he has some unfinished business there, Ma. I'm really sorry about this."

"Why on earth for? Like I told ol' Doc.. suddenly remembering, Oh, Doc was here a few days after you come by and Kitty sent along so many nice things, bless her."

She scurried over to the fireplace mantle and picked up a new pipe holding it out for Matt to admire. "Look at this!" she said proudly.

"Well, that is a mighty fine pipe, Ma." Matt grinned and the old woman touched his shoulder then went to a cupboard and took down a new bottle of whiskey and a glass. She placed it in front of Matt and said "Kitty sure thinks of everything, don't she?"

###

Frank Carver and his boys watched from the rise behind a thick crop of trees as the big lawman took care of his horse and then carried his saddle and gear into the cabin.  
The old woman could be seen at the window of the kitchen. Just the very top of her head now came to that height and Frank said to no one in particular, "guess she will turn to dust one day."

"What, Pa?" asked Nate.

Clint complained "Marshal Dillon will be nice an' cozy inside by a fire and we gotta stay out here all night."

Frank rubbed his forearm and growled, "Tomorrow night Kitty Russell and the good citizens of Dodge City will see what's left of Matt Dillon."

###

"Marshal, what do you think is gonna happen tomorrow?" Ma Carver asked as she handed him a blanket to add to the bedroll he set up in front of the fireplace.  
She noticed his gun belt and his boots were next to his saddle.  
"I worry about you facing the three of them alone."

"I'll be OK, Ma. I just hope I can bring them in without any bloodshed, but that will probably be up to Frank."

"Then I'm gonna lose a friend or see my son and maybe my grandsons buried. It ain't gonna end peaceful."

The two sat in silence at the wooden table. Ma Carver sipped whiskey from a coffee cup and Matt from a glass. She puffed away on her old pipe.  
Matt looked at the face of Amelia Carver. Her white hair framed her tiny, lined, but still pretty face with the firm mouth and bright eyes he remembered for these past twenty years.  
She must be around eighty, now, he figured.

As if reading his mind, she said "we've seen us some times, haven't we? I remember Dodge City through several sheriffs and marshals before a certain tall US Marshall Matt Dillon came along."

Matt smiled at her and said "By golly, when they write the history of these times, they'll say it was women like Amelia Carver who really settled the frontier."

The old woman sat up proudly and said, "And women like Kitty Russell, don't ya know. Why when I think of how that young girl came from New Orleans, started working at the Long Branch, and now, well, you must be plumb proud of her. I remember how you looked at her back then. Same as now, Matt. Just like a beautiful painting."

It was not often that she called him by his name instead of Marshal, and he knew she did it to add emphasis to her words.  
She was right, of course. He sure was 'plumb proud', but didn't know what to say next and felt the conversation getting a little uncomfortable.

"Well, guess I should turn in. Thanks for dinner and everything, Ma."

###

The Long Branch was doing brisk business and Kitty knew she would be having a late night. That was OK because she could keep watch for signs of Buck stopping in front of the saloon boardwalk and a tired but safe Matt wearily coming up the stairs.  
She hoped it wouldn't be just another night of putting a light in the window and waking up alone.

###

The following morning. Amelia Carver did not hear footsteps behind her as she stepped off the porch.  
A strong arm lifted her off her feet and a rough hand covered her mouth. She recognized his smell even before he spoke.

"Did ya miss me, Ma?" sneered Frank Carver as she looked up into the face of evil.

###

Matt stepped out onto the porch carrying his boots and sat in the rocking chair. He leaned over to put on the first boot but had a sense that something was wrong. Too quiet. Where was she. My gun.

The blow across his back as he stood up nearly knocked him off his feet, but he swung around in time to miss Clint Carver's awkward swing, grab him by the collar and throw him through the air.  
The man landed several feet in the dirt in front of the porch.

"Get him, Nate!" Nate held the poker above his head and was about to bring it down on the big lawman again when Matt grabbed his wrists and pulled the weapon out of his hands.

With a strong right blow Matt sent Nate Carver sprawling over the rocking chair. Clint dove at Matt's knees and brought the big man down only to have him grab Clint's arm away, lifting him up enough to land a powerful blow to Clint's head.

Nate was astonished that Matt was able to deliver such a punch while lying on his side and drew his gun on the lawman.  
Clint yelled "Pa said not to shoot him!"  
In the moment that Nate hesitated, Matt lunged for the gun and turned it on his assailant.

"Hold it, Carver!"  
Nate lunged back at Matt and the gun fired into his chest. Nate fell forward and lay motionless.  
Matt turned to the trembling Clint and ordered, "Throw down your gun! Now where is your grandmother?"

"Right here, Dillon."

From the side of the cabin Frank Carver dragged his mother roughly with one hand under her arm almost lifting her off her feet, while the other hand held a gun aimed at her head.

Clint ran to his twin brother and turned him over. His chest was covered in blood and his eyes were wide open.

"He killed Nate, Pa!"

"Leave him!" shouted Frank Carver.

Matt couldn't believe the image in front of him. A man using his elderly mother as a shield, not seeming to care that his son was now dead.  
He tried to see if Amelia Carver was OK, but her head was down and her eyes were closed.

"Let her go, Carver, this is between you and me."

Roughly the man pushed the tiny woman to the ground, holding the gun on her. She began to get up but collapsed on the porch. Matt felt sick. He knew now that Frank would kill her and Clint was holding a gun on him. He could probably get one, but could not save both Amelia Carver and himself.

"No one else has to die, Dillon. Not even you. So, mister high and mighty marshal, are you willing to endure a little pain to satisfy my revenge and save the old woman?"

Matt thought, I have to buy some time. He lowered the gun, and Clint quickly grabbed it out of his hand.

"Get Nate's belt" Frank ordered his son.  
Clint decided to obey without asking questions and appeared to be almost in shock. He stood holding his brother's belt not knowing what to do.

"What are you waiting for, tie his hands." When Clint looked confused, Frank shouted "Get down on your knees, Dillon, and put your arms around that post."

Matt thought he may get a chance to overtake Clint but for now would try to keep Frank as calm as possible. The man is clearly insane. Matt got down on his knees in front of the raised porch and put his arms around the post, clenching his fists to make them as large as possible before Clint tied his hands with the belt.

Matt glanced to his left and saw the gun on the porch next to Nate's body, then looked further and saw Amelia Carver had not moved and was still laying face down on the porch. Was her frail body broken? Was she even alive?  
He couldn't waste time and must try to create a distraction. But how?

Just then Frank picked up Nate's gun and put it in his belt while still holding his gun on Matt.  
Damn. He pointed to the poker that lay next to Nate and Clint picked it up.

"Fire it up" Frank ordered.  
Clint went into the cabin. Matt looked up at Frank Carver and saw his terrifying smile before the handle of his gun came down behind Matt's left ear. Lightning flashed then everything went white, then black.

###

Matt didn't know how long he was out. When he came to he was still on his knees, bent at the waist over the floor of the porch, aware that his shirt tails were out and his shirt and vest had been pulled up to his shoulders, exposing his back.

His arms were still around the post with his wrists tied by the belt. He could hear muffled voices, then boots walking across the porch toward him.

Frank Carver sat down next to him on the raised porch rubbing his forearm. Clint was sitting on the porch with his back to the cabin wall, wimpering.

"He's done for - always was the weak one. But it don't matter none. I'm gonna fry your hide and send you back to Dodge with my brand all over you. See if your woman will be able to look at you once I'm done with you. I'll start with your back and move on to your face. You'll be marked for life worse than these prison brands, Dillon."

Carver got up and went into the cabin and Matt started to work the belt loose. He looked over at Clint who was now curled up on the floorboards. Frantically Matt struggled to free his hands. Carver came back and moved behind him. He was wearing a glove and carrying the branded poker which glowed red-hot. Matt felt his back tighten and tried not to anticipate what was to come, all the while working to free his hands.

"This is to remember me by, Dillon!"

Matt heard a deafening scream and realized it was his own voice. The pain was unbearable.  
Then he heard a blast, then quiet.  
Every nerve ending in his back was screaming.  
He didn't even realize he had pulled his arms free in one motion as a reaction to the pain. Through the paralyzing pain he heard Ma's voice call to him. "..the stream - cold.." and suddenly Matt found himself plunging head first on all fours down the slope and into the cold water.

After a few minutes the pain was still very intense but beginning to numb. Matt turned over in the cold stream keeping just his face above water and took a huge gulp of air.  
It seemed like he had been holding his breath for a long time. He felt a ringing in his ears and was afraid he was going to pass out. Slowly, he crawled out of the deep, clear stream and the cold air revived him.  
Then he remembered. Frank and Clint Carver. He was still unarmed. Ma Carver's voice cut through his fog.

"Are you all right, Marshal?"

"Ma? Are you OK? What happened?"

The words came out slowly as he struggled to walk up to the cabin. When Matt reached level ground he stood up straight and saw the tiny woman holding his gun in both her hands, pointed down in front of her.  
Frank Carver lay dead on the ground still holding the branding iron. Matt looked on the porch and saw Clint curled up on the floor with his head buried in his hands. On his wrists he wore Matt's handcuffs. Matt walked over to Ma Carver, and she held out his gun.

"Don't know that you'll need it right now. I'm gonna need some help cleaning this up and there are bodies to bury."

Matt almost replied "yes, ma'am" but just took the gun and leaned against the porch post, exhausted.

###

Two days later.

Matt saddled Buck and returned to the cabin. He took a seat at the table where Ma Carver had placed coffee and a plate of eggs and biscuits.

"Ma, I'm so sorry about Clint. I just don't know what happened."

"He up and died was all. Nothing you done. Truth be known, it was Frank that killed him."

"Thanks for letting me stay on a while and for tending to my wound. That salve really helped a lot."

"You can get some from ol' Doc. I'm just sorry you had to go through that. Kitty is going to be upset when she finds out, I'm sure."

Matt didn't answer but kept his head down, working on his eggs and biscuits.

###

Late that night in Doc's office.

"Doc, I can't see the damn thing. Just tell me what it looks like. Will there be a blister or scab or something?"  
"Getting a little vain, are we? Or are you trying to hide something from someone you haven't seen in three or four weeks?"

"Never mind." Matt finished buttoning and tucking in his shirt, then put on his vest.

"If Kitty asks you about it, please say it's nothing and that I'm OK."

"By thunder, you really don't know, do you?"

Matt looked at his old friend with a puzzled expression.  
Doc rubbed his mustache and shook his head.

"Sit down. Matt, you take care of everybody in this town and beyond. Who do you think takes care of you? The first time you got shot it was pretty much a flesh wound. You were young and healthy and you healed up just fine.  
Kitty came to see me right after that. She sat down right where you are now and said 'Doc, show me what to do.' I figured she wanted to help with some nursing, but she said, 'I need to know what to do for Matt. We both know he will get hurt again and probably worse. What if you're not here? His life may depend on it."  
"That was twenty years ago, Matt. Kitty has set bones, extracted bullets, and stitched you up. Did you really think all she did was shave you and spoon feed you some soup?"

Matt couldn't speak.  
First, Ma Carver shoots her own son to save his life. Now he learns about Kitty.  
Of course, he should have known. He did know.  
All the times he woke in Doc's office or in Kitty's rooms to find her soothing his fevered brow, or changing the dressing on a wound. This was more. She never let on and I never thanked her, he thought.

But that wasn't how it was with them. Feelings were known but seldom expressed.

He felt Doc's hand on his shoulder.

"You'll know what to do when she asks, son."

###

Kitty's rooms above the Long Branch, three am.  
Matt lets himself in and hangs his hat and gunbelt on the rack by the door. He goes to the chair at the window and takes off his boots, then dims the light that was left on in the window for him and carries it to the bedroom.  
He stops and looks down at his redhead. She is on his side of the bed, wearing one of his blue shirts, sleeping peacefully. His heart is so full of love for this woman. He watches her sleep for a long time.

"Just like a beautiful painting."

The End


End file.
